


Marshmallows

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie, yespolkadot_kitty



Series: As You Are [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Disabled Reader, F/M, Reader-Insert, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, spoonie fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 16:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20548943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: Just a little drabble about the affection building between our spoonie reader & the God of Mischief.





	Marshmallows

“And does she say yes _every _time?” Loki asked, the barest hint of curiosity slipping into his pleasantly rich voice.

You shifted on the sofa with a wince, moving your hot water bottle so it covered more of your lower back before sinking back into the couch with a sigh of relief. “Of course not. That’d be dumb.”

He glanced at you skeptically, thin black brow arched high on his forehead. “And an entire programme about choosing a dress while strangers watch is not, as you say, dumb. At all.”

“Shut up and pass the marshmallows." You rolled your eyes at his critique, but you softened the harshness of your words with the teasing lilt to your tone, the wide grin on your face, and your hand held out in front of you, fingers wiggling impatiently.

He did as you said, which in itself was odd, because you and Loki hanging out had become a very regular thing. He just showed up with food and books and buckets of sarcasm, and you… really liked it. He made himself right at home whenever he came over, as if he owned the place, and his comfort in your space helped put you at ease. Now you didn't worry about keeping him entertained despite how pained you might be, or how exhausted you felt, because he was always content to do whatever you suggested. It was as if he _enjoyed _your company.

Sometimes he wore his fancy black suit, sometimes he just wore a ratty grey sweater and sweatpants. But he always magic-ed the dishes clean. And sometimes he magic-ed the water in your hot water bottle hot again. He never made a big deal about it, and that was almost worth more than the chores he took on themselves.

The episode of Say Yes to the Dress ended and one of Queer Eye started.

“Norns, what is this abomination?” Loki asked, but reached for more popcorn all the same.

“Like a makeover show, but not just cosmetic. Like a makeover for your life and your house as well as your face and hair.” You sighed as Tan and Antoni chatted to this episode’s subject, a disabled woman who had given years of her life to her church but never taken time for herself. “I totally need a makeover.”

“Whatever for?” Loki asked.

You turned at his genuine curiosity. Was he blind? “Er, I’m still in my pyjamas, my hair is ratty, and I’m eating popcorn and marshmallows from the bags because I haven’t got the energy to make a sandwich. Need I say more?”

He snorted, not bothering to look away from the TV. “You truly have no idea, do you.”

“About...?”

“That you are my favourite mortal, hair combed or not, dressed in the crown jewels or the garment you affectionately call sweatpants,” he replied, in that lazy tone, as if he hadn’t just turned your entire world on its head. People just didn't go around _saying_ stuff like that, and he tossed it out like it was nothing.

You opened your mouth a few times to say something, something witty or sincere or sarcastic, but nothing came out.

On screen, Antoni built a roasting spit wearing shorts and a cowboy hat. _Hot damn,_ you thought, although he was nothing compared to the tall, dark and snarky God_ lounging _next to you on the sofa, eating marshmallows like they were going out of fashion.

You yawned, removing your hand from the popcorn bag to scrub your hand over your face before letting it fall heavily into your lap. It was late, and you'd spent hours fixing Tony's issue with the code on one of his security systems. It was mostly fixed, but you'd used your last spoon on it, and your body felt wrung out. It was an effort to even sit up, but you didn't want to go to bed. Not yet.

"Tired?" Loki asked.

"My substandard body is failing again," you deadpanned.

The Asgardian glanced over, and then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world and he'd done it a million times, he lifted his arm and draped it over you, tugging you gently so your head rested on his broad shoulder. He was... comfortable.

You snuggled into his side and let your curled up legs rest against his thigh, half hoping he wouldn't kill you or anything.

Loki didn't say anything; he barely even acknowledged that he'd moved. You offered no comment either, fearing breaking the spell.

But he was warm and steady and _so built_ and you felt your eyes drift closed.

And it was good.


End file.
